


Are you going to play by the rules

by caseofundertow



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood, Companions, Dragonborn - Freeform, F/M, Fighting, Insecurity, Magic, Non-Canonical, Romance, Violence, insides of peoples heads (metaphorically), mods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-26 15:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3855145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caseofundertow/pseuds/caseofundertow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn knows and sees everything, until she doesn't.</p><p>The story here, begins with Rialla, a warrior woman with her own agenda, joining Companions and the ways in which they had begun changing each other's lives as the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers and warnings? - this fic is based on Skyrim with mods made by other people and cheats, I hope that does not upset anyone too much.
> 
> I have never thought I'll write a fanfic(and even more so a fanfic on a game), but yesterday evening I just did, so here is how it starts.  
> I'm not sure where will this go and in which directions this will expand just yet,  
> but I plan updating tags and characters as I go and there will be changes to the original story.
> 
> (ps I do tend to miss typos and wrong words even after re-reading three time, so please do point if you see such, thanks)

Rialla sighted to herself and patiently followed the man who was supposed to ‘test her out’. She could see his irritation, his manner that told her he was not looking at her at all right now, as all he was seeing was a stranger that intruded in his home. A whelp not worth second glance. The man was rude but it did not bother her much.

The white-haired old man she met just now, Kodlak, worried her much more. In addition to her noticing how strangely he looked at her when she first walked in into the room, she too, felt something, some familiar sensation tingle at the back of her head when she looked in his eyes. Logically, she knew she could not have known him from anywhere, but still. The more she thought about it, the more familiar the old men felt, and she had to get to the root of this matter. 

Returning back to her current situation, she wondered how this big man would act if he knew who she actually was. How many of her enemies she had almost single handedly chopped into pieces just this morning, including a dragon that dropped out of the sky while she was returning to Whiterun. She smiled bitterly to her thoughts, making a note to herself sarcastically, that if she had decided to keep her identity secret from most people she should probably stop feeling hurt by the fact that they do not recognise her at sight and look at her with due respect.

With these thoughts going around in her mind, she stepped out of the Jorrvaskr  and followed the large back of the man in the Wolf’s armour down the steps to the training yard. She saw the man called Vilkas smell the air attentively and growl something under his breath, as he turned around. Rialla smiled at him, tilting her head, trying to appear unaware of his foul mood. He does have quite handsome cheekbones though, she noted to herself. 

“Let’s do this,” he said.

 _Let’s get this over with…,_ she echoed in her mind.

She reached over to her shoulder and pulled her blade in one swift motion. It gleamed with purple slightly, but as Rialla suspected, the Companion in front of her did not appear to know what it meant. He told her to take few swings at him, rising his shield up, and she leaped forward. She changed the angle in the mid swing and landed the first blow without fail, making the much larger man stagger back.

Someone whistled encouragingly. They appeared to have audience. 

_I must be more tired then I thought… I forgot that I was supposed to act normal and hold back a little._

She scowled to herself and pirouetted, noticing an opening in man’s stance, swinging her weapon once more. 

The whole farce ended in four blows, as the man lowered his hands, stepping away and informing her that it was enough.

Rialla sheathed her weapon, nodding absentmindedly, and when she glanced up again at the Vilkas, her brows crawled up in surprise. The man was staring at her thoughtfully. She realised he was looking differently at her now, something in between confusion and realisation was flashing on his face.  

 _Oh shoot…,_ she cursed herself immediately for not being careful enough, _Did he notice something?…_

But after a pause, in stead of what she was afraid he would ask, he suddenly handed her his sword.

“Take this to the smith in the Skyforge, whelp.”  

She extended her hand and took it without thinking, still blinking at him. She was so worried she even forgot to spit some venom at the “It’s probably worth more then you are” comment Vilkas dropped before stalking away. 

“Well that was closer that it had to be,” She whispered quietly to herself, and looked up at the rock on top of which the Skyforge was supposed to be, “Let’s get this done, get the job I’m supposed to from them and be out of here as quick as I can…”

 

 

This was the day when the Dragonborn Rialla had joined the Companions, the step she knew she had to take to blend better in to the world of Skyrim and carry out her mission, and the step she did not consider having any special meaning for her future. 

The step that Vilkas would not consider having any meaning at all, when he first saw her.

Their few minutes in the training yard left him thinking, however. 

She was tall for a woman. Slightly taller then Skjor, but still not tall enough to look Vilkas or his brother straight in the eye, without arching her neck slightly to look up.

She had Nord blood in her, but appeared to be of mixed race, as he had never seen Nord with a hair as black as hers. Her grey eyes were of such pale icy colour, that in contrast with her raven black hair and black and long black eyelashes they sometimes looked almost white. 

What troubled Vilkas was the look on her face, glimpse of which he had caught just when she leaped past him, swinging her blade. 

She was fighting him, but for a moment he saw an expression for which he could not find an explanation. It was a look of someone very tired and most likely bored, also much older then the girl in front of him was. It was evident in her eyes, suddenly very heavy and cold, surrounded by tiny wrinkles. His eyes were sharper than human’s because of his blood, and he was sure he was not mistaken. It was then when he finally decided to pay attention to the newcomer in front of him, and realised her smell was even odder. She did not smell of fear or excitement, as he would expect from any person, especially woman, made to fight him. Her heartbeat did not even quicken, as far as he could tell. There were even stranger smells stuck about her armour: of old dungeons and blood, human blood mixed with something else he had never smelled before. But it was the almost icy smell of the woman herself that made the wolf inside of him feel his hairs standing up on the back of his neck, reacting to something strange and unknown.  

It was this feeling that made him watch her from a distance, whenever she came back to Jorvaskr of whenever he caught a glimpse of her in the city. He saw more then once, her usually smiling face turn blank and her eyes look like the ones of an very old person, when she thought no one was looking. He also saw that there were other expressions that showed up on her face when she thought no one was looking. He saw her face light up with a smile that could have belong to a child, when she was passing through the mead hall and noticed a plate with freshly baked honey cakes. How she teared the warm dough with her fingers in small pieces, closing her eyes blissfully and making strange sounds in pleasure, as she put them in her mouth. That scene made him stare wide-eyed from his corner bench, where he was reading his book before she walked in, and made him forget to  breath for a moment from sheer eroticism of it. On the day of her Trial, when after the ceremony Companions were gathered at the tables for the laud celebrations, he had caught the sight of tears gathering in her eyes quite few times. She blinked and looked up every time it happened, then smiled and pretended nothing was doing on, hiding her face behind her wine cup. 

The woman was strange, not like anyone he had met before. 

He couldn't bring himself to come closer to her, trusting her was completely out of question, but he could not make himself stop following her with his eyes just as well. 

 


	2. Blood and Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Vilkas still worries, he is already too late.
> 
> The beginning of Silver Hand quest and a little more on the background of the new Dragonborn.

Vilkas had noticed with surprise, that while he was avoiding the newcomer and watching from shadows, trying to figure her out, the other Companions had warmed to her considerably. Even though he had never seen her spend one full day in Jorrvaskr and she was away somewhere doing blood knows what for most ofthe time, her presence still seemed to grow inside the Jorrvaskr gradually. 

His bother, Farkas, spoke of her with respect and fondnes after their quest together. When Vilkas asked him wether he found something strange in the woman’s smell, Farkas only shook his head and asked him back was he was talking about. Vilkas could not really talk about this to anyone else, even to Kodlak, so he was was left in uncertainty if he was the only one who felt it. 

Most of the whelps looked up to her. With the exceptions for Njada who had no control over her jealousy, it seemed like they had forgotten that she joined the Companions after them and often asked her to show them some new tricks with the unusual weapons she brought back. 

Even Aela, who looked down on all younger members and didn’t miss her chance to make light even of Farkas, seemed to like their newest family member. Vilkas saw them talking and laughing together more then once. Rialla was slowly but surely making her way to the heart of his home. And it made him uneasy.  

There was another reason why thecloseness of the two women worried Vilkas. He knew that Aela and her partner Skjor did not agree with Kodlak on all aspects of being the Companions and led their own secret war against the enemies of the blood. What they did was their own business, but if they involved this stranger with the secret of the blood and the Circle, that could lead to some bad consequences for all of them. 

 

The night Skjor and Aela invited her to their secret, she felt reluctant. She didn’t really want to become a werewolf, but the voice inside her head, the combined duet of logic and sixth-sense that allowed her to see some of the future waiting for her behind the corner, told her that this was a necessary step for her to take. She was sure she will be able to control the beast well enough to refuse turning after the initial transformation. Until she found a way to deal with it. And she was pretty sure that sooner or later she will. She did promise herself she’d help Kodlak in his search for the cure, now it will just have to be her cure too. 

When Rialla came about in her lycanthropic form, for some reason sanding right outside Jorrvaskr where anyone could have seen her, she felt a surge of anger that could overpowered the madness of wolfblood. Aela and Skjor were no-where to bee seen, and she couldn’t risk lingering and looking around. She went back into the Underforge right away, passed through the secret passage that led outside the city and then just run and run with all her might, until she blacked out once again. 

When Aela met her, naked and cold, outside after her initiation, Rialla had to fight the urge to snap and pour her irritation on the red-haired huntress. Aela was talking about how much trouble they had with her. Apparently even more than when Farkas was turned for the first time. And then she talked about celebration. As Rialla put her clothes and armour back, checking her magical bottomless backpack and putting all of her enchanted amulets and rings back in their places methodically, she had to bite her lip to avoid stopping the Companion in the middle of her overly enthusiastic speech about the Silver Hand.  

It was that moment when something rustled in the forest around them and Aela spun on her toes rising her bow with a low growl caught in her throat. But Rialla only raised her head for a moment before looking back down and returning to lacing up her high boots. 

“It is alright, Aela. Those are friends,” she said out loud. 

Three figures stepped out of the forest, all leading horses behind them. Rayya was also leading Rialla’s dark horse and Axe, their battle dog trotted next to her. 

“You were not easy to find, Thane,” she was the one who spoke first. 

“That is why some of you have those useful amulets for times like this,” Rialla sighted and, finishing lacing her boots, she put a small dagger behind her cuff and stood up. 

“These are the ones Farkas was talking about?” Aella was eyeing Rialla’s followers suspiciously, “A motley crowd you have stuck to you, Shield-Sister.”

The comment earned the hunteress low rambling laughter from Alric and a scrutinising look from Cless. 

Farkas was the first of the Companions to meet Rialla’s party, as he was the first one she had to take as her Shield-Sibling on a quest with her. The one that Skjor had called her Trial. The day was full of revelations for them both. It was the first time she was told about the Circle’s secret and saw Farkas actually turn to his wolf form. Even though she did know it all along. It was also the first time the people of Jorrvaskr leaned that she didn’t travel on her own, but was followed by a heavy Nord warrior named Alrik, a pretty but sharp tongued girl Cless, adept in druid and restoration magic, and one of her housecarls, Rayya. She had always asked them to wait for her in one of the taverns or the stables when she went to Jorrvaskr, to avoid being asked unwanted questions. It was also the first time most of them learned she was a Thane of Falkreath. Fortunatelly enough, as it was Rayya and not Lydia that traveled with her now, being Thane of Whiterun and all the Dragonborn reasons behind it were still left undiscovered, for the time being. 

She liked having Farkas as her Shield-Brother. His timing was always good, when he covered her back and rushed past her with his huge great-sword in half-swing. She liked men with good instincts and those who did more then spoke. And he seemed to fit comfortably enough into her little party.

When they came back that day, she found herself once again following Vilkas’ back, as he was the one waiting for them right outside the Jorrvaskr, to start the ceremony of making her officially one of the Companions. 

Rialla smiled to her memories, as she finished her preparations, but then suddenly a sharp thought brought her back to reality and she snapped towards Aela.

“Wait. Did you just say Skjor went on ahead inside?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?!”

“It’s Skjor, Shield-Sister. He can handle himself.”

Rialla watched Aela in disbelief, amazed at how much the huntress was blinded by the heat of the wolfblood. No, wrong. Both her and Skjor. They were both so drunk on their power and each other, it seemed they were loosing their reason even more then she had thought. 

Rialla realised there was no point in talking. 

“Let’s get going then.”

_Hope we are not too late…_

Her followers tied the horses in the woods, and their small party started towards the Gallows Rock. 

When the angular and uneven silhouettes of the fort became visible on the top of the hill against the grey sky, Rialla heard quite whispers the weapons made as her companions unsheathed them around her. She followed their lead too, gripping her curved blade in her right hand and gathering theLightning bolt spell in her left. The spell was very useful for taking out watchers and guards from the walls, just as much as Aela’s arrows. 

They were in the hurry, so there was no need for sneaking. 

They rolled over the exterior of the fort like a wave. Arrows and lightnings shot on the run. 

Axe rushed past her and jumped, tearing the throat of the long haired bandit on their left. As Rialla was running though the gates, something cold sunk in her stomach. In her peripheral vision she saw two werewolf heads stuck on the spikes right inside the gates. Without pausing, she extended her left hand and with a loud cracking sound and flash of blue light, dropped the enemy that was on the roof in front of them. As she did, she saw that there were two more heads just in front of her, in front of the door that left inside the fort. She cursed quietly through her shut together teeth, and looked around. The battle outside the fort ended in seconds, and everyone had already gathered around her. Her own followers held a little distance and kept silent, as was their habit whenever there was someone else joining them, but she knew they will cover her and Aela’s backs. 

“Rayya, I need you to stay out here with Axe,” Rialla said over her shoulder to the woman who was holding Axe tightly by his collar with her free hand. From now on it was no place to bring the dog to, and they needed someone watching the entrance for them. 

As soon as she heard “Yes, My Thane” behind her, Rialla was the first one step inside. 

The first room was small and soulless. But it stunk of blood and metal. 

“Look at this,” Aela spat behind her, “They closed it off after Skjor charged in. You can practically taste the fear.” 

Rialla didn’t respond. She stood watching two more beast heads staring at them with their dark dead eyes. She could swear that they still were filled with rage and agony. What bothered her about these heads and heads she saw outside, was the absence of decay. The still-red blood glittering slightly when it reflected the light. 

These were fresh kills. 

She tried shaking away the creeping though, that in one of the next rooms, they may find Skjor’s head staring at them, just like this. 

_An standing here just increases chances of that happening with every minute,_

Rialla sighted and, extending her hand pass the beast head frozen in its last snarl, pulled at the ring on the chain, that activated the mechanism opening the way for them. 

 

 


	3. Gallows Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Silver Hand quest.  
> The play against the rules begins. 
> 
> This one was based too much on the gameplay, so next one will be mostly personal stuff. Angst/fluff? maybe, not really

As expected the sound of the gates opening lured those of Sivler Hand that were in the closer chambers, and they clashed at the Companions in the narrow corridor. They were few in number and weak. They were done with in minutes.

The first room was a large square chamber with a fire and a half-cooked Skeever cooking over it, smell of which made Rialla nauseous. Even more so did what they saw in a small room adjacent to the chamber. 

“There’s a dead one there, isn’t there?” Aela said, taking a look over Rialla’s shoulder, “No one we know, judging by the smell.” 

Rialla had to sniffle at that loudly. On a small table near the unnaturally twisted body of dead werewolf, there was a strange leather poach with numerous instruments laid out. 

So this Silver Hand did not only hunt. They got their kicks of torture, too. 

She felt low growl emerge from the depth of her throat.

“Let’s hurry,” she dropped over her shoulder, quickening her pace towards the next door. 

As she expected, from there on, it only got worse. Rialla had to curse the damn lycanthropy for the newly obtained sharpened sense of smell over and over, as the still air in the windowless chambers and corridors reeked of blood, filth and split guts. 

Two rows of prison cells on the higher floor were guarded by two orcs and two archers. The orcs took a little more time to get disposed of, especially the one with long great-sword he seem to know how to use. 

The cages they guarded were almost all filled with dead and still alive but tortured to madness werewolves. Aela said that there was nothing they could do for them. 

_There is, but this will have to wait._

By this time they had already lost count of the dead wolves and the heads stuck in spikes that they had seen. 

The icy fire of rage and disgust of the way these bastards were displaying dead as their trophies painted a blood-lusting half-scowl half-grin on Rialla’s face. Only one worrying thought grew inside of her while she sped through dim lit corridors: _If Skjor went inside, why are there still so many of these rats  stalking around?_

Their pace quickened, room after room, they cut through Silver Hand in silence and growing tension, following the smells.

Aela finally broke the silence when they reached a particular door at the end of corridor. The smell coming from it seemed to be particularly strong. Rialla couldn’t really recognise it, but she saw that much more experienced Huntress must be feeling something, as her face stiffened and her gaze seemed to darken. 

“We must be getting close,” she spoke, sounding distant, "Be careful now. Their leader is called the Skinner. I don’t think I need to tell you why.”

Rialla nodded and adjusting her hold on the hilt of her swords, glanced behind at Alrik and Cless. 

“Ready?” she asked quietly. 

“Always.” 

“On my count. Disperse and circle them.” 

She kicked the door in.

Leaving the smaller targets to her followers, she rushed right ahead towards the altar when tall figure in ringmail and nord helmet was visible. That must be Krev the Skinner. She jumped up the step and slashed with her blade right through redguard women's chest, that appeared in her way. Krev the Skinner was next. He swung his sword at her with considerable force, but she blocked his sword with her own and kicked him in the stomach. Rialla turned on her tows, reading her next blow, but the Skinner didn’t get up anymore. Aela’s arrow was sticking out of his eye and other was already staring unblinking at the ceiling. Only then, with sounds of fighting around quieting down, she saw the figure laying on the floor few steps away from the dead Silver Hand leader. 

It was Skjor.

_No…_

Dragonborn swayed, feeling sick. Then she saw another dead werewolf on some kind of altar right ahead and her mind went black for a moment. Before becoming crystal clear.

She sheathed her sword and stepped forward towards where Aela was standing above Skjor’s body, with determination on her face.

“Rialla…,” Cless called out to her, warning ringing in her voice.

But the Dragonborn didn’t listen. She watched the distorted with pain and anger Aela’s face.

_I may not like their infatuation with power and blood, I may not like their arrogance, but…_

 She had already made her decision. To change history once more.

“I need you to find out their…in Easmarch…,” Aela begun, stumbling on her words and not taking her gaze away from Skjor. 

“Aela.”

Rialla interrupted the red-haired woman, standing right across of her over Skjor’s body sprawled on the stones. 

“I will go to Eastmarsh. Later. Now, I need you to close your eyes.”

Aela stared back at her in bewilderment.

“What nonsense …?” she began to speak but was interrupted by Rialla again.

“I need you to close you eyes and trust me,” the Dragonborn’s voice rang against the stone walls of the room with the hint of steel mixed in it, as she spoke putting emphasis on each word.

Rialla’s followers exchanged glances between themselves and took few steps away from the centre of the room, to get out of the way. They knew her well enough to know when she had set her mind on something. 

Dragonborn kneeled next to the body of Skjor and pulled out one of her amulets from the belt porch. As she looked up and saw Aela still staring at her with her eyes wide, she met the huntress eyes with calm stare and repeated:

“Close your eyes and turn around, Sister. Now.”

She had to use light persuasion charm. She didn’t need Aela thinking she was going to do something bad to Skjor’s body right in front of her. As Aela finally obliged, closing her eyes with a heavy sight, Rialla nodded and turned back to Skjor. 

_Please work…_

She gripped an amulet in her right palm till her knuckles went white and pressed her clenched fist to her heart. Next, she extended her left palm over the Skjor’s body and begun gathering all her powers.

_Oh gods please work…_

The stretched out palm tickled with magicka and something else. The force know to none in this world except her. She felt the force gather and time slow it’s flow, her heartbeat slowing down and stopping with everything else. All smells and light disappeared from the world for her. Only the gathering force remained. 

“ _Resurrect_ ,” she send the mental command when she felt enough force gather, and something shoot painfully through her fingers down at the body sprawled in front of her. 

It took few more moments for Rialla to feel the air move again and when she was able to take a breath, she opened her eyes slowly, just in time to see Skjor stir on the floor. His eyes shut open as he gasped for the air and coughed, sitting up. 

Only gashes in his armour now reminded about the wounds that were gone without a trace. 

Rialla heard a loud clutter to her side and looked over to see Aela, her face white as death, fall down on her knees staring at Skjor in disbelief.

“How?…” she tried asking but only rasp whisper left her lips.

Skjor shook his head and got to his feet. He was never the type to think about things too much.

“What’s going on? Did they manage to hit me on the head or something?”  

“They managed a little more than that, old man,” Alrik was not the type for subtleness either, “How’re you feeling?”

“And who in Ysgramor’s beard are you?” Skjor frowned, focusing his gaze on Alrik and and realising there were other faces he was seeing for the first time. 

“These are the people that travel with me, Skjor,” Rialla gathered herself up, dusting off her knees, trying to hide how much they were shaking.

She walked up to Aela a readied another spell. She put her hand on the woman’s shoulder, making her look up and meet her eyes.  

“No one must know about this. On your blood, Sister," she whispered, her hand gripping fellow Companion’s shoulder glowing for brief moment, “Skjor was hurt when we rushed here but we healed him, that is all you need to remember.” 

She looked right into her Shield-Sister’s eyes, hoping she still had enough strength left for a good persuasion spell. 

In a moment Aela's face returned to the usual expression the Huntress was known to wear. She smiled at Rialla showing her sharp white teeth.

"Good hunt, Sister. But we are not done yet." 

"Yes," Rialla nodded, "but since this was my first hunt after receiving the gift… Tell me about it on our way home, will you?"

The Dragonborn managed to push out a smile to her Shield-Sister and stepped away. Turning round she saw Cless trying to hold Skjor's head between her palm and the old men futilely trying to push her away. 

Alrik, by the look of it, had already gathered what there was to gather from the chest and bodies and waited, leaning on the stone wall near the door, his hands crossed on his chest. 

Rialla sighted. 

"Well, no point in staying here any longer. Shall we?" 

 

She made sure to let Aela and Skjor lead the way and stayed few steps behind, watching their back attentively. As soon as Cless came up to her, she pulled the young druidess closer and whispered:

"How is it?"

"He seems to be in perfect health. Nothing unusual, for now," young girl glanced at her sideways, "Did you really had to…?"

"I did."

"Playing with the natural flow of history is a dangerous thing," Alrik chimed in, walking in front of them. 

"Ever since I came to these lands people have been pulling at me to change thier history in all the ways they want. I say I have a right to put my word in it too. Enough about that. I have one more thing to ask of you, Cless."

"The animals downstairs?" she guessed.

"Yes. When we leave, use the Calm spell and let them out. Take a look at their wounds if you can, too."

"I say, after what they've been through, it would be more merciful to let them die quickly and painlessly. Like that redhead said," Alrik nodded at the pair walking in front of them. 

Rialla could only sigh. 

"Haven't you seen enough dead ones for today already? If I can help it, I'll keep alive as many as I can." 

After a pause, Alrik still added in quite voice:

"Keeping alive and bringing back are quite different things, 

Rialla didn't have more energy to answer or argue. She'll still have to keep an eye on them for a night, to make sure it all doesn't unwind and Skjor wouldn't fall dead somewhere in the middle of the street.

She watched two of the Companions walk next to each other, keeping their heads together. She also saw Aela put her hand around Skjor's arm. 

_Let's this be my little whim…_

 

 

 

 

 


	4. One night for questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skipping between points-of-view disease is strong with this one. 
> 
> And thank you very much to those who left kudos and/or have read it so far :)

At noon, Vilkas was in the training yard. Naked above the vest, he poured a backed of water over himself, to wash away the sweat and tiredness after kicking the whelps around the yard for the entire morning. Aela and Skjor were no where to bee seen, and his brother was away on the contract till nightfall, so he happened to be the only one around to _help_ them with their training. 

Leaving the warm midday sunlight to dry the water off him, he took his shirt in his hand and walked around the Jorrvaskr towards the Skyforge to pick up the dagger he had asked Eorlund to sharpen for him. However, suddenly, he froze in his steps. A strong, unfamiliar smell hung in air, in the spot between the Jorrvaskr walls and the rock, and it made the beast inside of Vilkas growl. He didn’t know this smell, but he knew what it meant. An unfamiliar werewolf. One he hand’t met before. 

Vilkas cursed quietly through his shut together teeth and it came out more like a snarl. Suspicion grew in him. 

 _Am I too late?_  

Reluctant to learn what he was already sure he was about to learn, Vilkas walked towards the Underforge, thick black eyebrows pulled down in a scowl.

As soon as he entered, he could tell. The air in Undeforge smelled of the beast, and the bowl in the middle, though was now empty, had a strong smell of the blood about it. And this bowl had not been used for many years. Until now. 

The ritual was performed here. And now, most likely, this meant the Circle had a new member. 

The ritual was performed in secret. In secret from Vilkas and even Kodlak. 

 _It_ was _done_. 

Forgetting that where he was going, Vilas turned around and returned to Jorrvaskr. 

 

 

The way back to Whiterun was relatively peaceful, except for the small episode when they had to clear out bandits that were camping near Uttering Hills Cave. But slow travel took the good half of the day, and by the time they arrived the sun had already almost completely sunk below the horizon line. 

The good thing about taking time for this journey was that while Rialla watched Skjol and Aela on the road and fighting those bandits, her certainty that what she did was right and that it had actually worked, grew enough to put her at ease. The bad thing was, that she had to endure heavy gazes of her own Housecarl for the whole length of it, after Rayya had learned from Cless what had happened inside the Gallows Rock. 

This may have been the bigger part for the reason why she left most oh her belongings in saddle bags and had asked her followers stay in the Drunken Huntsman, while she herself had decided to join Skjor and Aela for a celebratory meal in Jorrvaskr. 

 

 

As he watched the three of them return together, basking in the blood-red reflections of the sunset, Vilkas’ suspicion turned to certainty. All three of them looked rugged and tired. Skjor, even though he looked quite fine as he walked, had some very nasty gashes in his armour. 

He could smell blood before they even climbed the steps to the doors of Jorrvaskr. 

After he made his discovery, he changed his clothes and walked around the town, searching for the traces of what could have happened during the night. To his surprise, he had not found the smell anywhere else in the city, and as far as guards knew, there were no incidents in Whiterun or surroundings during that night. The fact that he now knew that somehow they managed to avoid causing trouble around their home may somehow soothed his anger. But they did still manage to make trouble _somewhere_ , and he was not about to be left in the dark again.

 

Rialla leaned back in her chair and arched her neck back, looking up the the high ceiling of the Jorrvaskr main hall. 

“Jorrvaskr…” she rolled the word inside her mouth, tasting it like for the first time, “Even the name of this place sounds wolfish.”

The time was about to roll over the midnight mark. They’ve been eating and drinking at the table ever since they have returned, not being overly open about their reasons for celebrations, but telling the younger Companions that there was a good hunt. People at the table changed all evening, but since Skjor and Aela had left to the chambers together, the mead hall was mostly quite and empty. 

There was something strangely comforting about the walls of Jorrskvar she had not noticed before. 

Rialla was tired and was planning to get up and return to the inn for some time already. But she couldn’t really make herself move. 

“I’ve never seen you spend the night in Jorrvaskr,”low voice interrupted hew thoughts, as Vilkas sat across of her, where the table made a turn, and pulled the plate with cheese and fish towards himself. 

She looked down at him but didn’t find anything to answer. 

“Are our beds too cheap for you?” he allowed a crooked smile onto his face, which made it harder to tell wether he was joking or angry.

“Yes, sorry. Can’t sleep in a room with other people.”

It was the truth. She threw it at him because she had a feeling he was trying to play some game, and wanted to trow him off. 

It had worked. Vilkas raised his eyebrows and his chewing slowed down. Apparently, he didn’t think his next words through. He had been trying to get Skjor or Aela alone for the whole evening, but he had no luck. Especially after they begun drinking. Seeing Rialla alone still at the table, murmuring to her own thought apparently, brought back some of his irritation.His first attempt to provoke her was too transparent. 

 “Speaking of things that never happened before. This is actually the first time you have initiated a conversation with me, for all this time,” she squinted at him slightly, watching his reaction. 

“What is there to talk about with a whelp?”

Rialla wrinkled her nose at the word. 

“You don’t think it’s about time to change that perception?”

“If you want to prove that you’re not a whelp anymore, prove it with your sword,” he grinned, baring his teeth at her and leaning back in his chair, “Want to step outside?”

Rialla smiled at that softly and turned face back towards the ceiling, closing her eyes.

“Not tonight, big wolf,” she said quietly.

She felt that even those few sips of the wine she had allowed herself were a mistake. All the energy she had to use today left her body too vulnerable to the alcohol. 

_Not good…_

“What was that?” the sarcastic mask he had on his face moment before had cleared away in a flash and his voice hardening. 

 _Shouldn’t have said that…_ Her vision was becoming blurry and when she moved, she finally noticed how heavy her head felt. 

 _“_ Well, it was nice to talk to you. Good night,”she dropped, pushing herself away from the table, hoping not to sway too much. 

“Where do you think you’re going like that?” 

 _Like what?_ She wanted to ask back but that seemed like too much energy to waste. She had to concentrate on walking out and getting to the inn, before walking would get any harder. 

While she managed to get up the stairs to the door, keeping one hand outstretched to her side so she could support herself against the wooden rail if she needed, she seemed to forget all about her interlocutor. 

Until a large shape appeared to her right. 

“I asked you, where do you think you are going in that state?”

She had to look up and blink few times before her vision focused on his face and she gathered enough concentration to put words out of her mouth. 

“I’m sure there’re still few open rooms in the inn…,” she said and tried moving past him towards the door, but his large hand slammed against the door, blocking her way. 

“If you want to sleep, there are enough beds right here,” he was not about to let her get away and disappear without answering his questions. 

The noise rung through her ears and made her insides twist sick. She had to squeeze her eyes shut and draw a deep breath.

_Few sleepless nights on the road, and then the first transformation that didn’t go so well, all the fighting, and then all that strength for the spells and pulling Skjor back… This must be where I finally meet my limit, huh…_

The voice inside Rialla’s head fought for the control, for few more moments of clarity just to get out to find a safe enough bed to fall into.

“I can’t…,” she tried to step around Vilkas but her knees trembled and she swayed, “Move…away…”

“Hey!” he caught her by the elbow before her knees gave away and then had to put an arm around her back to stop her from falling. 

“Please…” 

She still tried to struggle towards the door, but as her eyelids were almost completely shut, he saw that her consciousness had already slept away. When she ceased moving and went limp in his hands, Vilkas let out a long sight. Her breathing was still too uneven for simply falling asleep, but he had no other explanation. 

Thinking for few more moments, he picked Rialla up and carried her across the hall towards the stairs to the living quarters. 

He made it all the way to the whelps’ sleeping room and was about to put her down on one of the beds, when women’s eyes suddenly snapped open. 

“No-no-no-no,” she struggled against him, whispering under her breath.

While he was surprised at her reaction, she managed to slip out of his hands and drop on the floor. 

“No, can’t… here…people,” her whispering voice came out in painful shudders, and her shoulders were shaking while she tried to push herself up. 

“Huh?” Ria sat up on one of the beds, rubbing her eyes, “wsss-goin’ on?”

Vilkas shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. Making a ruckus was just not fitting in his plans at all.

“Nothing, go to sleep,” he dropped to the imperial girl. 

He could say she had too much too drink, but any explanations usually only ignited the curiosity in these situations. Luckily enough, Ria was infatuated with the circle enough to actually listen and obey. He only had to get out of here before others begun waking up too. 

He bent down to Rialla, trying to gather her in his arms again, as she was making too much noise trying to half-crawl towards the door. 

The way she whimpered as he picked her up, made him freeze in the middle of the movement. 

_What was making her so upset?_

He should had left her alone to begin with…

He couldn’t carry her across the city to the inn like this now.

“All right, all right, I’ll get you to a room with no people, all right,” he muttered and to his surprise she seemed to quite down. 

Vilkas carried the woman to his own room, and opening the door with his foot, walked in and put her down in his bed. After he bend down to pull off her boots and sword belt, he had returned to close the door. As he looked back hearing her move, he was startled by the strange sight. The women had moved to the furthest corner at the head of the bed and curled there, as if trying to make herself small and hide in the corner. 

Shaking his head, he took out his heavy fur cloak from the dresser and left his room, closing the door behind himself.  

 

In the private corner of the Drunken Huntsman hall, Alrik put a tankard down on the table with a loud bump.

“She’s taking longer then usual today.”

Cless yawned and stretched, extending both of her linked arms behind her head. 

“I don’t think there’s a point in waiting. We’ve been from High Hrothgar to Morthal and back since we last slept in some place else then saddles, clearing all those caves on the way, and then her taking in the wolf’s blood and I must tell you, bringing back someone from the other side is not something you can usually do and run a mile after. She most likely decided to stay the night and sleep it off.” 

“I’m inclined to agree with the voice of reason and follow Thane’s example,” Rayya stood up from her chair and made her way towards the bedrooms, “I bid you both goodnight.” 

“Night,” Cless waved her her hand to redguard woman’s back.

“Didn’t she say before that she couldn’t sleep in that place because they only had bed she could use in the common room?” Alrik noted, when there were only the two of them left. 

“Well,” Cless suddenly turned towards him, smile blooming on her face, “you know, there are actually other reasons I can think of for a woman to spend a night in that place.”

“Like what?” the Nord man raised his eyebrows at her. Cless’ smile gained a mischievous hint to it. 

“For starters,” she walked up to him and, putting her hands on Alrik’s shoulders, seated herself on top of his knee, watching him smile back at her, “Remember that big wolf man that she went with to the Dustman's Cairn?”

Alrik nodded, putting his own arms around the girls waist. 

“Well there’s one,” seeing that he was not convinced, she added, “I also heard that he has a quite handsome twin brother. The one that is also considered to be the smarter one.” 

“Well, that’s all very interesting,” listening to her speak of men being handsome was really not amusing, “but what do you say if we stop wasting out free night on talk, huh?”

 

Vilkas spend the night on one of the benches in the hall. He was more thinking though slumber, then actually sleeping, and because of that he opened his eyes to the sound of footsteps in the hour when the sky just begun lightening, anticipating the dawn. 

It was Aela, her hair wet from the bath, who climbed up the stairs to the hall and was headed outside. 

“Aela,” he called out to her, sitting up.

“Oh,” she raised her eyebrows in surprise, seeing him there, “What are you doing here?”

“Why did you do it?” he ignored her question. 

“What?” Aela could see Vilkas frown at her, but she was not the type to be intimidated by anyone. 

“Why did you turn her?” 

“Ah,” she smiled, leaning back at the wooden column, “Being the sharp one here, as usual?”

“Why?”

“Well, first of all, I don’t think I’m actually required to report or explain all my actions to you, _brother_ ” the Huntress made a mocking accent on the word, “And, second of all, whatever you might be thinking, our newcomer had shown enough skill and fire to be recognised. By adding blood’s power to that and joining together, we can eradicate the Silver Hand in no time now.” 

“ Silver Hand? You were hunting them yesterday? And Kodlak? Does his opinion mean anything to you anymore?”

“The old man is too busy seeing dreams about Sovngarde, to see anything important that is actually happening right under our noses. We are being challenged to a war by the band of trash that made it their hobby to hunt wolves and play with their dead bodies,” Aela straightened up and walked towards the door, “And if you don’t want to be ambushed by likes of them and made into their next experiment subject when you stick your nose outside your beloved Jorrvaskr next time, I suggest you an your brother better join us too, like our newest sister did.” 

Watching the door that slammed behind the Huntress, Vilas growled slightly in irritation. 

Making up his mind, he stood and went back to the living quarters. 

When he entered his room, he saw that Rialla was still sleeping in the same curled-up position in the corner, as he had left her last night. 

He settled himself down in the chair, turning it around to face the bed.

He won’t let this one escape. 

 

She could feel his presence in the room before she had opened her eyes. Thogh it did take some time and effort to realise where she was and what was going on, without stirring. Her muscles seemed to ache everywhere, after sleeping in a position that was far from relaxed. 

“Sleep well?” 

He must have noticed the change in her breathing to catch that she was awake. 

She didn’t miss the unpleasant notes in his voice and wasn’t naive enough to think that the man was genuinely inquiring of her well being.

“Do you ever?” she unfolded herself slowly, and turned around enough just to meet his eyes with tired half-smile of hers. 

She saw him narrow his eyes. 

_I’ve got the Ysgramor’s strength, and my brother got his wits._

Was something Farkas liked to repeat a lot.

Men with wits were dangerous kind, in her situation. For some reason he was the one who had decided to stay away from her before, and she had let him, not without some relief. This situation was far from ‘staying away’, however. 

But then again, those (with wits) are the best kind, and she wouldn’t lie that she didn’t notice him watching her. 

As expected, he did caught the hint towards the beast blood preventing her from truly resting. But she wasn’t about to expand on the topic.

“Why am I here?”

“When I tried to leave you in the whelp’s room, you made a ruckus.”

She watched his eyes for fem moments, before tilting her head at him. 

“You do realise that if you had let me go as I asked you to begin with, you wouldn’t have to give up your own bed?”

“The way you were, you wouldn’t even make it down to the market,” he snorted, grimacing.

“I highly doubt it,” she smiled back, “I can take care of my self well enough.”

‘Oh, and you being here must be the evidence of that?”

“Me being here, is evidence of you getting in the way and then paying the price,” she tried a broader smile.

Feeling that her aching muscles stretched enough, she swung her legs of the bed and got up.

“Well, I still shall thank you for your hospitality.”

As she was about to leave his room, he couldn’t stop himself and grabbed her by the elbow. 

“Why did you agree?” his voice was different, rolling rumble. 

When she looked up at him, she saw the silver of his eyes dance with gold, waves moving through his irises. For a moment, she was so mesmerised with the sight, that she forgot what he had asked of her, until his grip on her arm tightened. 

“I do not have an answer to that question,” she put her hand over his wrist, “It seemed to be a step that I had to take. If you wish to know weather I will use it and bring danger to your city and home, I can assure you I will not. I was careful and pretty sure I managed not to kill anyone while I was turned, and I’m not planning on turning anytime soon. Maybe never.”

In the back of her head, she finally realised that she’ve been instinctively compelled to tell this man the truth for some time now. Without worrying wether he will understand. Must be because she felt that this one could smell out the lies, even before she knew it for sure. 

“If you don’t plan to turn, I don’t see a reason for you agreeing even more.”

She smiled slightly and stepped towards him, tearing his hand from her arm with her fingers and using his confusion to make it easier. He smelled pleasantly… of winter forest, cold, fur and smoke. Those were very comforting for her smells. She had to fight the urge to lean in closer a little. She vaguely remembered smelling it last night, as if in her dream, and it gave the smell a little nostalgic feeling about him. 

“What if I told you,” she whispered to him, having finally succeeded in making his fingers leave her arm, “That this way, it will help me find the cure Kodlak is so dreaming of?”

She knew that among all the members of the Circle, Vilkas was the closest to the Harbinger and was also the closest in his opinion about the lycanthropy. She had seen him discus it with Kodlak before. This shall leave him with something to think about.

As she was finally free, she turned away and was out of the door, making sure she was well enough out of sight, before he would come up with any more questions. 

 


	5. It's all cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some traveling and some more suspicions.  
>  Not all everything I wanted to put in this chapter, but I'll have to move some to the begging of next one for time reasons, sry

“So, where now?” Alrik asked, fighting back a yawn. Rialla had practically dragged them out of their rooms to the stables. 

“Home.”

“Which one?” Cless laughed next to Alrik.

“Lakeview,” Rialla smiled, “I’d like to drop all the extra things we picked up these days and sort next plans out.” 

They turned right after they left Whiterun, keeping the mountains on their left. The morning turned out to be rather chilly, but very quiet. As their horses trotted calmly down the road, Rialla kept trying to stretch her neck and shoulders, to get rid of the last night muscle aches.

“You hurt your shoulder, My Thane?” watchful housecarl didn’t let it slide unnoticed. 

“Slept in wrong way,” Rialla sighted.

“Ooh?” Cless grinned and hilled her horse to come closer, “Do tell.”

Rialla squinted her eyes sideways at the girl and snorted a short laugh. 

“I’m almost afraid to learn what it is that you’re expecting to to hear.”

“Why, we were just wondering why did you suddenly stay there overnight, if you always said you wouldn’t.”

Rialla smiled and turning her face away, instead of answer dent her horse to canter. She wasn't sure she would have been able to explain even if she tried. 

When they reached the Lakeview manor, Rayya left made a trip to the town to by the fresh supplies for dinner, and came back with a note from the Siddgeir’s steward. The note was requesting killing of a Dragon at the Ancient’s Ascent. Since the road here took most of the day, it was decided that they will move out east to carry out the mission next morning. 

 

There were only three of them traveling east, asit was decided that Raaya and Axe were stay at the manor this time. 

To reach the Ancient Ascent, they had to pass through the Bonechill passage, and the closer they got to mountains the heavier the weather became. The Bonechill passage was really a place worthy of its name. The ice covered most of the floor inside the caves, and it made passing through that much more difficult. It were times like this, when Rialla applauded mentally to her own decision to travel with a druid, which insured that they didn’t at least have to worry about being attacked by animals while they were hardly keeping their footing, 

The mission itself should not have been very difficult. But the weather made everything almost twice as harder as it was supposed to be. 

From time to time the snowfall outside would get so intense, it felt like a solid wall of white in front of their eyes. 

But it did not only make it harder to see, it also distorted the sounds, making it harder to guess the distances by ear.

Spotting the dragon in these conditions was the hardest part. They could hear its roar through the snow, but until it spit the pillow of flame right above their heads, they couldn’t see where it was coming from. Fortunately, it was not a frost dragon. And the flame that the creature produced worked against it, making it easier for the Dragonborn and her small party to focus their aims. 

After enough practice, killing a simple lower level dragon didn’t pose much difficulty. Everyone knew what they were doing. Cless’ lightning brought the beast down, restricting its movements, and Rialla’s and Alrik’s blades didn’t let it take off the ground again. 

Watching the flesh burn away off the huge skeleton of the dragon, leaving it naked, as if it as left to be consumed by time for many thousands of years, and trembling when Rialla absorbed its soul, Cless wrinkled her nose as she did every time. 

“And still I say, I don’t like all this dragon-killing business,” she shook her heard, “shouldn’t there be a way to co-existence? Isn’t it why you are supposed to be Dragonborn?”

Rialla only glanced at the druid while she sheathed away her blade and stretched her shoulders. Cless’ opinion on fighting any non-humanoid creatures was well known to all. That is why they carried druid amulets that stopped all the other animals from being hostile towards them. But dragons, seemed to be hostile _because_ they were intelligent, not because of the animal hunting instincts. And if there is a way to make them stop, she was sure the secretive Greybeards won't allow her to learn it before they absolutely sue it will be the right time. 

Gathering anything useful these was to be found, they took the road back across the mountains. Even though climbing rocks and finding paths between them in this weather when everything seemed to be white with falling snow was a stupid idea, it still felt better then taking the same way back through the passage. 

 

“What’s that?” 

Alrik was first to notice the darker silhouette of the old stone walls, hidden by the trees and snow in the distance. 

It didn’t look anything special. A simple square stone building, most likely an old fort, with fires burning on its walls. 

They exchanged glances and Rialla slowly nodded, shaking away snow from her hair that fell in her eyes. Chances of there being no trouble were very slim, but they might as well check it out and use it as a chance to get somewhere inside, away from the snow. 

Those chances of it being a peaceful place to rest flew away as soon as they got close enough to the wooden doors to see huge blood splatters right there, covering the ground and walls in front of them.

Cless sighted loudly and they all slowly pulled their weapons out, readying themselves. Now, they couldn't leave without checking what was going on inside. 

The entrance hall, if it could be called that, was all in ruins. Naked stone, like it was torn and scattered around, covered every thing and thick spider webs covered the stone. 

Blood spatters on the walls further in, and blood covered skinned human sculls that welcomed anyone who went through the doors with black hollow eye-sockets, told them who’s home this was right away.

“Vampires,” Alrik hissed behind Rialla’s shoulder. 

“Get behind me,” Rialla answered with quite whisper, “the good thing about the wolf’s blood they gave me, I am immune to their drain spells now.”

They didn’t argue. They made a line, Rialla going first and Alrik bringing up the rear, with Cless in the middle. As three of them turned around the corner, they came about the porch, barred with steel rods, that was overlooking the lower floor.  Rialla raised her hand and stopped. Squatting down she pulled Cless behind herself. She saw oil lamps hanging just on the level of second floor, and thought that they must use it to their advantage. Readying her own spell, she singnalled to Cless towards and received a firm nod in response. Silently, Rialla mouthed the count. One…two…three!

There was loud crackle in the air, echoing intensely against the stone walls, but they were not worried about being noticed anymore. The oil lamps fell down and crashed against the floor below them,  creating loud explosions and filling the inside of the fort with screams of the burning vampires.  

Vampire Fledgings that escaped the flames rushed upstairs to meet them and were cut down by the blades one by one. As soon as Rialla’s party made it to the bottom of the stairs, the room shook and with the loud sound of crushing stone, one of the gargoyles came alive. These were not easy to kill. Their skin was thick and hard, and they slashed at the humans with their long sharp talons. When the creature finally vent down, its head cut off, Rialla had noticed new nicks it had left on her blade. 

The passage led downstairs, where half of the large chamber was covered in snow

The further they cot, going up and down, around large rocks and through narrow passages, the more difficult it became to tell weather they were inside of the building or an ice cave. Most of the vampires they have met, were so surprised not all of them even managed to put up a resistance. Rialla almost expected the passage lead them to some exit from a cave on the mountain slope somewhere, until, sliding down the snowy slope they came to end of the passage barred by the iron pikes. The surrounding became very fort-like once more. 

Looking though the bars that were blocking their way, Rialla saw a large square room, surrounded by the stone walls, and similar iron gates. There were figures, something that looked like bodies lying on the floor. But then, she could also see the second floor, overlooking the square space, and her new sharper vision allowed her to see figures moving on top of the second floor, behind the short fence. She could also see one large figure sitting on something resembling a throne. Taking one more glance around the room on the opposite sides of the gate, she let out a short throaty laugh.

“What is it?” Cless came up behind her, and Alrik raised his eyebrows. They were both covered in vampire blood, but not yet too tired.

“Looks like we are about to be used for someone’s entertainment,” she smiled broadly at them, “ever heard of gladiators?”

"And who will be our opponents?" Alrik inquired, looking out next to her. 

"I can't tell from here. I can tell, that those dead one's are most likely just bandits… but then there's no way to tell, who they were fighting, from here."

"There's only one way to find out," Cless walked back to the chain on the wall, "Ready?"

Rialla and Alrik took positions on the both sides of the gate, their weapons raised and ready. As soon as Cless pulled on the ring and the barrier was gone, they run out together and stopped after few steps, not reaching the first body on the floor. With their appearance, there was a little commotion upstairs and they heard a man's voice announce:

“This fool will be the next act in the show!"

Glancing up, Rialla shouted without turning back to look at Cless, "Shoot those spectators down!"

But as soon as she said it, the other gates facing the square chamber where they were standing pulled down with loud shriek, and Death Hounds rushed out. She strong smell of decay and sulfur followed the dark creatures, and it was harder to breathe. Rialla could see Cless try to reach the figure on the second floor, but they seemed to have escaped and the death hounds took all of their attention. 

 "This way!" it was Cless who came after who was first to notice the gate leading upstairs and pulled on the chain to open it. As soon as they were done with the death hounds, they rushed upstairs. The vampire fledging woman was easy to find, her master, however seemed to posses the ability to become invisible. But he couldn’t fool wolf's sense of smell. Rialla cornered him to the wall, without seeing him, and slashed across where the man's chest must be. He became visible again when he fell like a broken doll to her feet. 

She wiped her weapon, looking at the nicks left on its blade by gargoyles, and sheathed it with a sight. It was over. 

"I would proprse taking a little rest…," she said when she turned around to face her followers, "but to be honest all this stench makes outside snowstorm feel so much more inviting…"

Alrik and Cless exchanged glances. They didn't feel very comfortable about staying in the vampire lair themselves. Though the choice between it and cold outside made them grimace. 

"Let's just hurry and get back home."

They left the Bloodlet throne through the same door they had entered before.

They didn't even make it all the away up the hill away from the fort, when Cless suddenly stopped in her tracks. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” the girl raised her hand to her temple squinting at the white snow in from of them.

“What’s that?” Alrik called back.

But she was right. A black figure appeared in the snow in front of Rialla so suddenly, she hardly had enough time to duck under the swing of the dagger and kick it away. While she pirouetted, unsheathing her sword, her eyes caught two more dark silhouettes move on the roof of the fort behind them. They looked like they had bowes in their hands. 

“Behind!” she shouted, as her she finished her turn and slashed the attacker, who turned out to be an argonian, across his face. 

When he went down, blood painting crimson wings on the snow, Rialla looked down to see what kind of armour he was wearing.

“Assassins!” she shouted once again, and saw Cless shooting her lightnings upwards to where the two more attackers were hiding, while Alrik tried to make his way up the roof. Rialla run after him. 

Cless’ lightings didn’t allow the assassins to look up from their cover to shoot their arrows, so Rialla and Alrik made their way up safely enough, and then they rushed forward, dividing the opponents among themselves.

 “I’ve never seen assassins travel in groups before," she shook her head when the fight was over.

“Well, maybe they do when you kill their leader and forget to finish the others,” Alrik reminded, wiping his sword on the cloak of the dead argonian. 

“I didn’t forget. Visiting this… captain person I was told, is just not on my way, yet.” 

“ I see,” Alrik let out a small laugh, “then better get used to the fact that we will be on _their_ way.”

Rialla sighted and looked up. _Soon,_ she thought, and the thought suddenly made her feel very tired. The party Delphine was talking about is in three days in Solitude. After that, she'll probably will have the chance to travel down to the Dragon Bridge…

 As they have made the whole journey on foot, when they returned to the Falreath it was already after the nightfall. The city was as gloomy and creepy as usual, an the atmosphere invited deep thought.

When suddenly a guard on the street greeted Rialla with “Honoured Companion!” in loud bass voice, it almost made her jump out of her skin. 

Which inevitably was followed by the concerned stares of her two tired friends.

“I was just thinking,” she cleared her throat, “ I was thinking that I will be needing to use the Skyforge before we go anywhere else.”  

"Of course, " wide grin bloomed on Cless' face. It seemd that the girl wouldn't give up this topic any time soon.  

Rialla only shook her head. She _did_ really had a need in new weapon, as the current one proved to be not reliable enough, after today. And she might also take some time to talk to Kodlak, why not. 

 

 It was late in the evening of the next day when Vilkas walked down the stairs to the Jorrvaskr living quarters humming to himself and to the new books he was holding, turning around in his hands. He had just got them from Belethor's shop. Some traveler had sold them to the store the other day, and he had never seen these two before. He was enjoying the though that now he will have something to help him with the restless nights, when his ears picked up a slight squeak of the door and Vilkas raised his head just in time to see the door to the Harbinger rooms begin to open. 

Vilkas slowed down and eventually froze in his step. 

He could tell it was not Kodlak he was about to see through the door right away and it made hairs stand up on the back of his neck. 

Rialla opened the door from the inside only slightly, just about enough to pass through without making much noise and stepped out to the hallway. She looked up at Vilkas only after she had closed the door quietly behind herself. 

He was staring at her in bewilderment.

In his mind, there were three reasons he could come up with right away, for the newblood to be sneaking out of Kodlak’s room, and none of them were good. She may have come to attack Kodlak. She may have been stealing from his room. She may have…been sneaking into his bed. Kodlak was old, but who could tell how old the man really was? Vilkas did notice a strange look in his Harbinger’s eyes when he looked at the newblood from the first day she had come here. 

He felt a low growl well up in his throat. 

And she was just standing there, smiling and tilting her head at him.

His hands tightened on the books he carried, until leather squeaked. 

“What are you doing?” he couldn’t make anything but growling whisper come out. 

“Leaving for tonight,” she smiled, pretending there was nothing strange about the way he had asked, “Or are you going to barricade me again?”

“Don’t joke with me!” gold had flashed across his eyes. 

“Never,” her smile broadened, showing her teeth, “If you are going to ask something, ask it straight.”

Vilkas glared at her and made a step forward. 

 “I asked you. What were you doing in Harbinger’s rooms?”

She waited with the answer, squinting her eyes slightly and watching the emotions throw dark shadows across his face. She had always found it strange, that the angrier her opponent became, the calmer and more distant she felt. She usually also felt more urge to put in a joke or two in these situations, then usual. 

She glanced away and let out a sight. 

“Talking, Vilkas. We were talking,”  she looked up him right in the eye with a tired and somewhat sad soft smile, quite different than the one she had just before, “You can go in and ask Kodlak himself, if you don’t trust me _that_ much.” 

She would not say out loud that him not trusting her so openly does hurt somewhat. 

Rialla turned her face away from him, still keeping her sad half-smile and walked away towards the exit, without looking back.

 

 


End file.
